


Every Move You Make

by dreamofhorses



Series: 30 Days Porn Challenge [3]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, The Author Regrets Nothing, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 09:05:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16238468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamofhorses/pseuds/dreamofhorses
Summary: Dedicated to Amanda who persuaded me to publish these instead of shoving them back into the dusty Google Drive cabinet they came from.





	Every Move You Make

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Petitbleu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petitbleu/gifts).



_ He doesn’t know. He doesn’t even know it’s there. _ Armie stares at the computer screen with what he’s sure is a dopey sex grin on his face, and slowly picks up his phone...

 

_ It was Timmy’s first time visiting Armie in his new place. Since the split from Liz, Armie was renting a smaller house in the Hollywood Hills for just himself and the kids, when he had them. Seeing Timmy bounce through his space, throwing his long legs sideways off the rented modernist chairs and juggling random items from the fridge, Armie instantly felt at home. After they’d settled in and grabbed beers from the fridge, Armie asked Timmy if he’d mind reading some lines together for Armie’s next project, a Coen Brothers adaptation of The Secret History. Then he realized his script was on the desk of his rented office on Melrose. “Back in an hour, Tim, just gotta grab the script.” Armie leaned down to kiss Timmy, who was lounging on the pristine white leather couch reading Armie’s battered copy of Welcome to the Monkey House. When they kissed, Armie’s hand found the back of Timmy’s head, stroked through his curls, and for a moment he feared he’d forget why he was leaving the house at all. He pulled away quickly, kissed Timmy’s forehead, and grabbed his keys. “Try ‘The Long Walk to Forever’. Great story. See you soon,” Armie tossed over his shoulder on his way out the door. _

 

When Armie walks into his office the script is right where he’d left it. He grabs it and whirls around to leave, excited to get back to Timmy, when his eye catches the computer monitor on his desk. It’s showing security footage of his new house. When he’s at his office he likes to see that his home is safe, and if the kids are with a babysitter it gives him peace of mind.

 

What he sees on his security camera right then doesn’t give him peace of mind. It makes him incredibly aroused, almost instantly. Timmy has clearly given up on reading Vonnegut. He lounges on Armie’s couch, one hand scrolling his phone, tapping, choosing something he was clearly looking for, and his other hand snakes into the waistband of his designer sweatpants. For all their intimacy, this is something Armie has never seen Timmy do, and for a moment he can’t believe Timmy’s being so open about it when Armie can see him. Then Armie’s rational mind kicks in and he realizes Timmy has never been to that house before, never talked to Armie about a security system.  _ He doesn’t know. He doesn’t even know it’s there. _ Armie stares at the computer screen with what he’s sure is a dopey sex grin on his face, and slowly picks up his phone. He waits until he can see that Timmy has started stroking himself before he sends a single text.

 

_ I can see you, you know _

 

On the monitor he sees Timmy startle when the message comes through, shake his head quickly from side to side, sit up on the couch in confusion. Armie is amused to see that at no point does Timmy take his other hand out of his sweatpants.

 

_ Security cameras. New feature. Didn’t think I’d need a reason to tell you about them _

 

Timmy relaxes a bit, still startled but relieved that there’s some explanation. It’s then that Armie realizes the power he’s holding.

 

_ The camera’s in the clock on the sideboard. Show me what you were looking at. _

 

Timmy’s still curled into the couch, hand in his sweatpants, when that message comes through. Even though the feed from the cameras is black and white, Armie swears he sees Timmy blushing. Timmy removes his hand from his sweats, adjusts himself, and walks over to the table beside the couch. When he shows his phone to Armie, Armie’s face splits in an embarrassed grin. It’s a shot of Armie’s cock that he had sent to Timmy during the Independent Spirit Awards. Timmy had come by to see Armie before the show, and even with Liz bustling around and Armie fighting off the flu, there had been 15 minutes when they’d been alone in Armie’s room, and Timmy had locked the door with a glint in his eye and done with his mouth the only thing that could truly make Armie feel better. When Armie knew the awards were just starting he’d sent a shot of his erect cock to Timmy, captioned “miss you already”. Timmy had been so embarrassed and disbelieving, he’d FaceTimed Armie instantly, never expecting to have it captured during the ceremony just moments later. They’d laughed about it in bed together several times afterward, but Armie had no idea Timmy was using the moment privately as well.

 

_ Naughty boy. You couldn’t wait half an hour for me to get back eh? _

 

When Timmy sees the text he offers an abashed grin, scuffs his foot on Armie’s calacatta marble floor.

 

_ Go open the curtains _ .

 

Timmy seems perplexed at the instruction, but obediently goes to the wall of windows facing the Hollywood Hills and pulls back the heavy brocade curtains. Light floods the room. On either side of the window the houses on either side of Armie’s are visible, as well as a trail of houses tracing down the side of the hill into the valley.

 

In his office, Armie locks his office door and closes the curtains, granting himself the privacy he’s decided to strip from Timmy. He sits heavily in his desk chair, eyes on the monitor.

 

_ Take your sweats off. _

 

On the monitor he sees Timmy’s eyes widen at the command. Timmy shoots a pleading look at the camera but he knows it won’t change Armie’s mind. He slides his hands down his legs, pools the sweatpants at his feet, folds them, and places them on the armrest of the couch. His erect cock bounces against his stomach, pleading for the release it was promised.

 

_ Now then. Please finish what you were doing before I so rudely interrupted you. _

Timmy starts to plead, starts to look to the camera again, and then dips his head obediently. When he raises it again Armie sees a smile of anticipation play across Timmy’s features. He returns to the couch, sinks into it, rubs his bare skin against the leather, and resumes rubbing his swollen cock. Armie notices that Timmy isn’t even using his phone now, is getting off just from knowing Armie’s eyes, and anyone else in that part of the Hills who’s looking a little too closely, are on him as he brings himself closer and closer. Armie himself is getting impossibly hard just watching, seeing Timmy throw his head back into the couch cushion, knowing it means he’s close, and the camera has no sound so he has to imagine those sounds he knows Timmy makes, his breathy gasps that switch to reedy vowel sounds when he’s  _ thisclose _ , and he’s making those sounds now because as Armie watches, he strokes faster and then holds still as he shudders into his hand, cum on his stomach, his mouth open, and Armie knows he’s saying  _ ahhh-ahh-ah _ as his breath returns to normal.

 

In the office, Armie realizes he’s so hard he can barely walk. He can’t wait to get back to Timmy and let him do something about it, in ways only Timmy can. Armie reaches for his phone and sends a single text.

 

_ Now stay right where you are. Don’t move. Don’t clean up. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. _

 

Then he drives back home to his lover.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm dreamofhorses42 on Tumblr, come say hi!


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